


Cold Fingers On A Cold Heart

by toasterness



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: At Least How I Experience Them, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This On My Phone, Light Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Soft Michael Jones, Storms, The Author Can Have Some Angst, Touch-Starved, as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22844116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toasterness/pseuds/toasterness
Summary: Michael and Ryan are stranded in a snow storm and it's taking a bit of a toll on Ryan. But at least he has Michael.
Relationships: Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones
Kudos: 65





	Cold Fingers On A Cold Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I've been super into self-indulgent one-shots as of late while in between posting chapters of my current big fic. So, because I can't help myself, here's another little something.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Do it, he thought. Just do it.

But Ryan's hands stayed where they were, tucked under his armpits. He couldn't muster the energy – or, really, the courage – to remove his arms from the warmth of his own body even though he really, really wanted to. Because Michael was right there, sitting close enough to him that their thighs were pressed against each other and he could feel the other's warm breath floating across his cheek. He was right there! It wouldn't take much to reach out and just – 

No, he shouldn’t do it; there was no way of telling if Michael even felt a fraction of the way that Ryan felt about him and the gent really didn't want to disturb their current friendship. Sure, they were currently huddled close in a tiny safehouse in the middle of a snowstorm and the Fakes were never the kind to shy away from displays of affection but this was different and Ryan knew it. Well, it seemed that way to him, anyway. Best to not tempt fate.

It wasn't like this was the most opportune moment to do anything anyway, not when they were basically forced to use each other for warmth. The storm outside was way too powerful to even think about stepping out and the interior of the shack they were crammed into was not much warmer. Michael wasn't, you know, doing it because he necessarily wanted to, not the way Ryan wanted him to anyway. The whole thing made the older man's mind race.

They'd been there for a couple hours already and it was becoming abundantly clear that they wouldn't last much longer; Ryan's fingers had been completely numb for a good forty five minutes now and he could feel the violent shaking of the man next to him. And it was taking a huge mental toll on Ryan, who's memory kept taking him back to his teenage years when he lived on the streets, perpetually cold and hungry. If he was being honest, the flashbacks were actually worse than the numbness in his limbs and what small amount of physical contact he was able to get right now was the only thing truly holding him together.

He'll understand if you tell him, he's not going to push you away, he's not like that.

But he couldn't do it. His body wouldn't let him. He was stuck, stuck, stuck. His own shivering was increasing and it wasn't from the cold.

Pull your shit together, Haywood, you can do this.

Yet it still wasn't getting any better; he could feel his heartbeat increasing and his breaths getting shallower and -

"You ok, Rye?"

Oh god, that voice. What did Ryan ever do to deserve that kind of soft tone?

"Ryan, seriously, you're kinda freaking me out. Your face is doing that thing."

"I'm f-fine." The words almost couldn't make it out of Ryan's mouth. "I-I-I'm fine."

Michael turned to face him fully, a look of concerned disbelief in his eyes. His brown curls were falling over his forehead from under his beanie and Ryan could have counted every single freckle on his face if he wanted to. And he wanted to. But the world was getting fuzzy and he couldn't concentrate.

"Hey," the lad said in a low voice. "What's wrong? I want to help."

And Ryan knew he was telling the truth because Michael was his friend and he cared about him, even if it wasn't in the same way as he cared for the younger man. But that didn't help him; he could feel himself sliding into a panic attack and he had no idea how to stop it. His eyes swam in and out of focus as Michael stared at him.

"I can-can't b-breathe," he gasped. "I-I can't breathe, I c-can't breathe, I-"

Micheal shifted around so he was facing him and carefully untucked his fingers from his coat sleeves. Before Ryan could even think about what was happening, the lad reached out and oh so gently put his hands on either side of the older man's face. Thumbs slowly stroked over cheekbones and Michael's gaze never wavered.

"Ryan, look at me. Breathe with me, in and out," he whispered, voice barely audible over the combined sound of the wind outside and the blood pounding in Ryan's ears. "Just listen to my voice, ok? I'm right here, everything is going to be fine."

Michael's fingers were ice cold but so we're Ryan's cheeks, yet somehow their mere presence on his face made Ryan calmer. It gave him something to focus on besides the dark panic that roiled in his chest. Slowly, like wading through quicksand, he felt those feelings leave him, Michael's continuous litany of quiet reassurances bringing him down. The callused skin of the younger man's fingers on his face, despite the vibrations of their shivers, grounded Ryan in a way no other mechanism had helped him break out of a panic attack before.

And then Michael bent forward and put their foreheads together and Ryan felt his heart stutter in a good way. His eyes focused on deep brown irises.

"There you are," Michael said with a small smile.

His eyes are so beautiful. If Ryan wasn't so damn cold, his face would have flushed hot.

"Thank you," he breathed into the space between them.

Michael moved his hands to Ryan's shoulders and gripped them hard. "I've always got you."

And oh, what that did to Ryan's poor heart. Did Michael have any idea? Surely he could tell, surely he had guessed by now how deeply Ryan's feelings for him went, especially now that he had witnessed first hand the calming affect he provided. And there was no way he could miss what Ryan knew his eyes contained at that moment, full of longing and desperate adoration. He was a gonner and he knew it.

"You're thinking too hard," Michael said.

"Sorry.”

"Don't ever be sorry for this, for any of this." There was a subtle change to Michael's tone as he moved even closer, his body practically draped over Ryan's lap. "You're only human, Rye; you're allowed to break."

And break Ryan did.

At first it was just one tear, frozen on his cheek halfway down. Then it was the hiccuping sob that his lungs just couldn't contain. And then it was him falling into Michael, his face tucked into the place where his shoulder and neck converged. His body was wracked with shudders but Michael wrapped him in his arms with a vice-like embrace and Ryan felt the warmth through their layers of clothing even though it wasn't a physical thing. The almost silent murmurs of Michael's words of comfort began again and Ryan let himself be held for the first time in a very long time.

When he stopped crying and his body only shivered from the temperature, Ryan pulled away slightly from Michael. "Thank you," he said again, voice ragged.

A hand returned to the side of his face and Ryan leaned into it, closing his eyes. It felt so good to be cared for like this, to feel so close to another person and to feel so safe.  
Ryan wasn't sure he would feel the same way if it were Jack or Geoff or even Jeremy who was the one in Michael's place; this sort of connection felt unique, powerful even. Perhaps there was a chance that Michael felt it too.

"You don't have to tell me about it," the lad said. "But just know that I'll listen if you ever do."

Ryan nodded, his face still pressed against Michael's hand.

"Now I know this has been a tough bit of time for you but I can't feel my fingers and I think it's your turn to be big spoon."

Leave it to Michael to shatter the moment. But Ryan didn't mind, he just huffed a small laugh and withdrew his body from the other's embrace and pulled him into his own. Michael tucked his fingers under the hem of the gent's coat to touch his bare flesh and normally Ryan would have yelped and demanded he remove them immediately but this time he held in his protests and just pulled Michael closer to him.

They stayed like that till the crackling voice of Jack came over their previously worthless ear pieces, letting them know she was finally on her way. And maybe, just maybe, he heard Michael grumble something about shitty interruptions ruining everything. But that was probably just his imagination. Probably.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, yell at me on [Tumblr](http://toasterness.tumblr.com), I love making new friends.


End file.
